


Contact

by sciencebluefeelings



Series: The First Move [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21695809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencebluefeelings/pseuds/sciencebluefeelings
Summary: Ambassador Spock gives some advice to his younger counterpart.As always, things don't go as planned.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock Prime, Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Series: The First Move [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563895
Comments: 10
Kudos: 107





	Contact

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gambas_droobles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gambas_droobles/gifts).



> Dedicated to the spones chat lovelies~ I was not expecting to revisit this idea but then all of a sudden spones happened

Spock sits awkwardly on a couch in his older counterpart's living room. He had anticipated a typical, uneventful shore leave, perhaps within the confines of the solitary laboratory where he could research the latest findings of the _Enterprise._

Instead he had received a call from Ambassador Spock requesting for Spock to join him for afternoon tea.

The ambassador brings two mugs and sits across from Spock. “Thank you for making time to visit me, younger one.”

The tea is very good. Spock looks up at the ambassador. “For what reason have you called me here?”

“Yes. I thought I might take advantage of your brief time here for shore leave. I have advice to offer you.”

At that, Spock sits up a little straighter. 

It was because of the ambassador’s words that Spock remained with Starfleet, allowing him to develop precious connections with his crewmates. It was because of his detailed instruction that they were able to defeat the fugitive John Harrison, who claimed his true identity was Khan Noonien Singh.

His elder counterpart's advice is not to be ignored.

The ambassador briefly disappears to retrieve something. He stands in front of Spock and holds it out.

It is an old-fashioned three-ringed binder. Upon opening it, Spock sees that it is completely full of synthetic grey paper. Spock flips through the handwritten notes with raised eyebrows. The tabs of the dividers are color coded.

One of the many recorded entries catches Spock's attention.

_Jim does not drink water unless it is flavored or sparkling._

Spock furrows his brow and reads the next entry.

_Jim is highly appreciative of receiving ‘Alstroemeria pelegrina’ (commonly called the ‘Peruvian lily’)_

Spock looks back up at his counterpart. His voice is flat. “What is this?”

“As your counterpart that has already lived your lifetime, I decided to provide you the chance at opportunities that I neglected to pursue.”

Spock looks back down at the text. “This is a manual - on how to court Captain Kirk.”

“Precisely.” The ambassador holds his tea again. “I trust you will use it wisely.”

“We do not desire each other in this manner. In fact, I would argue that the captain harbors interest in _you_ , Ambassador.”

The ambassador sighs. “I would not offer this without reason, younger one. It is not knowledge I would give out freely. Would you like more tea?”

“What’cha got there, Commander?”

Spock has grown accustomed to the sudden lurch in his stomach whenever the doctor made a sudden appearance, but it remains a curious and unpleasant sensation.

The doctor leans right next to the bench of the mess hall booth that Spock is sitting in. Spock looks up and nods at him. “Doctor McCoy. This is a gift from the ambassador.”

McCoy frowns. “Ambassador Spock?”

“Yes.” Spock opens the binder again. “The ambassador have provided a visual reference to win Captain Kirk’s romantic favor in the most efficient manner possible.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” McCoy mutters. 

Spock raises an eyebrow at the doctor’s scowl. “Has Ambassador Spock wronged you in some way, Doctor? You seem particularly averse to his actions.”

McCoy waves a hand. “So what kind of romantic advice did he give you, anyways?” He leans over Spock’s shoulder to squint at the even handwriting. He is close enough for Spock to feel his breath against the sensitive skin of his neck, and Spock has to resist the urge to shiver despite not feeling cold.

Spock leans away as casually as possible, not wishing to explore those unpleasant feelings further.

McCoy seems to notice his body language immediately, because he relocates to sit across from Spock. He flips through the binder. “Oh. Oh, here’s a good one. Look at this.” McCoy snorts. “ _Jim does not enjoy solitude for elongated periods of time._ That’s pretty fucking accurate.”

“Is it?”

“The number of times he’s left his bunk to sleep with me in mine while we were rooming together at the academy? Solitude is an understatement.” 

“Oh.”

Then McCoy barks out a laugh. “How about this? _Jim prefers the visual of black lingerie to red lingerie._ Now that one I know for sure is true.”

Spock bites back a noise of disbelief. “ _Excuse me?_ ”

McCoy shrugs. “I’ve been around that kid long enough. I don’t need a book to know a lot of weird things about him.”

“Have you been in-” Spock freezes when he realizes what he was about to say and glances out the deserted mess hall.

McCoy mirrors his actions, nervously glancing out of the booth before returning his gaze to Spock. “In a relationship with the Captain? That bother you or something, Commander?”

Spock stiffens. “Such sensations are foreign to me.”

“Sure they are.”

Pause.

“You did not answer the question.”

McCoy sighs. “Nah. He might’ve made a pass at me once or twice, but we were both in a bad situation at that time. Besides, I knew I wasn’t what he needed, and he wasn’t what I wanted. At least now he knows that, too.”

Spock finds his gaze drawn down to McCoy’s hand, where his long, dextrous fingers absentmindedly toy with one of the pages. They carefully avoid smudging the lengthy text at the bottom of the paper.

_Jim found it touching when I inquired about the scar on the back of his wrist. He told me it was received from the glancing shot from a jealous Starfleet classmate. The shot nearly took his entire hand. He was amused by my concern, and proceeded to tell me not to worry about it._

Spock knows there’s a scar on the back of this reality's Captain Kirk’s wrist, dark and prominent.

Suddenly Spock feels highly uncomfortable from being privy to such intimate information. He pulls away the binder from McCoy and closes it, staring at the blank cover.

McCoy looks up at Spock through his lashes, which make his eyes appear even darker than they already are. Spock wishes, suddenly, that the text in front of him divulged information not of his captain, but of the illogical, indecipherable doctor sitting in front of him.

“Well, Mr. Spock? What will you do with all this newfound knowledge?”

Spock finds his voice. “I shall do what is logical.”

McCoy snorts. “Why does that not surprise me?”

The captain stares. “It’s a _what_ now?” He touches the binder gingerly, as if it is imbued with toxic substance. The visual irritates Spock. The captain looks up at Spock accusingly. “Are you sure you should be sharing this with me?”

There is something about this human that causes Spock to rapidly lose patience, and in the worst possible way. “The last time you inferred that universe-ending paradoxes would ensue from revealing the ambassador’s secrets, absolutely nothing occurred. You are aware the ambassador himself approached me after the battle. I believe there will be no harm in sharing this information with you.”

“No harm, huh? So what does the old man think of me?” The casual demeanor drains as the captain opens the binder and begins to read. 

Spock politely keeps his gaze averted.

The captain slowly looks back at Spock. “Commander - thank you. This means a lot to me.”

“I am aware.” 

The captain rolls his eyes. “You’re supposed to say, ‘you’re welcome.’” He closes the binder and holds it far more carefully. “Anyways, I owe you one.”

Spock relaxes. “No favors are necessary. I shall derive an appropriate level of satisfaction in seeing the ambassador receive what he deserves.”

The captain smirks. “Revenge, Commander? Should’ve known. You were pissed off by what that old man pulled on us too, huh?”

For once, Spock does not deny the allegations. 

“Ambassador Spock,” McCoy greets cheerfully as Spock offers the ta’al, which the ambassador returns.

“I appreciate your invitation to join you three for lunch, it was not necessary at all,” the ambassador says smoothly. He then looks behind Spock and McCoy and promptly trips over his own feet.

McCoy squawks and jumps to help the ambassador steady himself. Spock knows his smug expression is leaking past the controlled mask of his face, but cannot find it in himself to care.

McCoy misses Spock’s lapse of control, preoccupied with checking the ambassador for injuries. “Are you okay, Ambassador?”

“Yes - I am fine.” The ambassador hasn’t broken eye contact with the captain. “Jim?”

The captain is suddenly shy, adjusting his glasses. “Had to grab my old frames. Retinax IV was acting up.”

“I see,” the ambassador says weakly.

The captain offers his arm to the ambassador, who cannot stop staring at the dark denim fabric of his jacket. “Shall we?”

The ambassador glances at Spock in a barely noticeable gesture. The bewilderment is evident in his eyes. “Yes,” he finally says, cautiously taking the proffered arm. The captain beams and leads them into the restaurant.

Spock suddenly realizes McCoy is not looking at them, but at Spock. There is a worried tilt to his eyebrows, which Spock finds confusing. He chooses to feign ignorance and keep walking.

The captain sits next to the ambassador, which leaves Spock and the doctor sitting next to each other. McCoy is still looking worried.

The captain turns to the ambassador. His voice is soft, but Spock’s hearing picks up the words above the ambiance of the restaurant. “Could you order for me? I’m always getting the same thing on New Vulcan - I’m sure you’d know what I like.” He laces his fingers together and winks at the elder Vulcan.

The ambassador is flushing deeply now. “Yes - I would not be opposed to doing so.”

When the waiter arrives, the ambassador orders for them both. Spock and McCoy order for themselves. Spock does not expect McCoy to ask for Vulcan tea. McCoy raises an eyebrow at Spock’s ale.

The noise level of the restaurant around them increases as more patrons arrive, but their own table stays relatively quiet. Spock spares a glance at the captain. He is looking at the ambassador with a face full of wonder and a softer, stranger expression Spock does not recognize.

Their food arrives, and the captain passes the dishes to everyone. The saccharine sauce of his own dish smudges onto his thumb. He licks off the sauce, deliberately maintaining eye contact with the ambassador.

Ambassador Spock’s eyes are wide, jaw nearly slack.

The captain moves so that his mouth is barely grazing the elder Vulcan’s ear, and speaks in a low voice that would be difficult for even a Vulcan’s ears to pick up.

Apparently the Kirk of Spock’s universe had been endearingly clumsy in his Vulcan, but Spock already knows the captain’s proficiency in Vulcan is eerily fluent.

“ _I wonder if you taste as sweet._ ”

Spock resists the urge to, as the doctor would put it, roll his eyes into the next dimension.

Apparently the ambassador found it effective, because he promptly stands and hauls the captain to his feet. He spares a glance at Spock and a startled McCoy. “Do not wait for us,” he says before dragging a grinning Jim Kirk out the back of the restaurant.

Spock watches their hurried exit with a brief pang of envy. In the morning they will both have a warm, caring body to wake up next to. Why couldn’t it be so easy for him?

McCoy’s voice brings him to the present. “Someone's getting laid tonight. Lucky bastard.“

Spock looks at the doctor, who is gazing at Spock with a sympathetic expression. “You okay?”

Spock is confused by the inquiry. McCoy shakes his head at Spock’s lack of response and he covers the back of Spock’s wrist with his broad palm.

Spock’s brain flatlines.

“I’m sorry, Spock. I’m so sorry you had to watch that.”

Spock keeps his face expressionless, completely at a loss at how to handle the situation. “Apologies are not necessary, especially from you, Doctor. You had nothing to do with-”

“You gave Jim that binder, didn’t you? That was very noble of you. It must’ve been a great sacrifice.” McCoy relinquishes his touch, and Spock’s skin burns from the loss. “Should we head back to the ship?”

Spock looks around the busy restaurant. “I would prefer that, yes.”

McCoy asks the waiter for boxes to take the food.

Spock is unsurprised to hear the next day that the captain and Ambassador Spock have become romantically involved. 

As shore leave ends and the _Enterprise_ returns to space, Spock puts aside his contemplation of anything regarding his elder counterpart. He will have plenty of time to ruminate upon it once more when they inevitably return to New Vulcan.

And inevitably return they do.

Spock can’t stop himself from watching as Jim hoists his worn duffel bag and runs straight into his counterpart’s open arms. Their faces are like radiant dual suns.

Spock nearly jumps from the heavy hand on his shoulder. He turns to see McCoy’s sympathetic face. The doctor nods at him before leaving.

Spock watches him go, feeling unsettled. McCoy has become more confusing since Jim began dating Spock’s elder counterpart. He alternates between offering to drink with Spock in private, and avoiding Spock so expertly that Spock cannot find him even when he goes searching in the medical wing.

Spock has calculated his options and decided that there was only one person he could go to for assistance.

“Are you available, Ambassador?”

The comm is silent for a moment. “Is it urgent, younger one?” The ambassador’s words are subdued. 

“I wanted to ask you something. Are you unwell?”

“No, no.” The elder Vulcan’s voice is heavy. “I confess, now is not an optimal time for me.”

“For what reason?”

“Nothing substantial, younger one.”

Spock hears the unsaid plea not to inquire further. They end the call, and Spock lets the comm rest in his hand.

It rings again.

Spock raises an eyebrow and puts it to his ear. “We need to go to a club and get drunk,” the captain says. Spock hangs up.

The captain rings him again, persistent and annoying. Spock reluctantly accepts the call again. The captain says in an overly cheerful tone that he wishes to travel with Spock to a social venue. It sounds wholly unappealing.

However, Spock can tell from the captain’s tone of voice that he will not be accepting refusal. Spock decides to compromise with the captain before the captain engages in a fifteen-point discourse to the benefits of a social excursion with Spock, complete with a visual guide.

Spock regrets his acquiescence when he meets the captain. Nothing appears unexceptional upon first impression, but the captain is clearly in a bad mood, and he is completely quiet as they enter the quiet restaurant together.

“You really think so, Spock?” Spock nearly chokes upon hearing the doctor’s smooth tone and chuckle. The doctor is sitting at the bar with a brandy in his grasp. And Spock’s counterpart leans towards him with open body language that is nearly flirtatious. 

Spock tries not to stare at the elder Vulcan’s fashion. The Terran jacket and trousers are crisp and clearly brand new. Spock disapproves instantly. 

“Of course,” the ambassador says with a very human shrug. “It was what your counterpart did, anyways.” The ambassador and McCoy laugh together again, and suddenly the unpleasant sensation inside Spock verges on pain.

Spock whips around to face the captain, but he has not appeared to notice them - or is ignoring them. Spock ends up following him to a table where they sit together.

Spock stares down at his menu without seeing anything. Clearly, the doctor finds his counterpart preferable to him, with his open, kind demeanor and ease in showing emotions.

Spock senses the shift in the captain before he sees it. The captain watches Doctor McCoy and Spock’s counterpart with wide eyes. He hasn’t moved to greet them.

Spock has always known the captain to be one to jump to conclusions, full of passion and rage. Spock tenses, suddenly wary of how he will react upon seeing his lover speaking so affectionately to his closest friend. However, the captain is quite calm, and the only sign of the confusion that belies his control is a tightness around his eyes. The sight is almost as off-putting as his counterpart speaking to the doctor.

Jim pokes Spock and motions at them. “Isn’t that weirding you out? Aren't you gonna do something about it?”

Spock cannot respond. Suddenly the air of the restaurant feels oppressive. 

Jim gets up and walks over to them, but Spock slips out the door into the night air with a gasp. 

He is not sure where he is walking. All he is aware of are his legs taking him further and further away from the haunting image of McCoy with a smile that is far too bright.

“Spock! Spock!”

Spock doesn’t stop. 

The captain grabs his shoulder to whirl him around. “You absolute train-wreck of a Vulcan,” he huffs.

Spock’s hands tremble where they wrap around his upper arms, a futile attempt to shield himself.

“Spock, you look paper-white and this close to passing out, so why don’t we sit down.”

The captain pushes Spock to sit on a low wall and kneels in front of him. “What’s wrong? Was it Ambassador Spock and Bones? Why did seeing them freak you out?”

Spock braces himself for an inappropriate comment. But when he looks at the captain’s face, he sees the familiar assertive air of authority, the glint when he sees a problem and is determined to find any solution.

“I assure you, it regards a matter that is inconsequential.”

“Spock.”

Spock squeezes his eyes shut. Perhaps the painful feelings will be released if he relinquishes his cover on them. 

“Captain - I find that Doctor McCoy gives me an unpleasant sensation.”

The captain’s brows furrow. “What? Did he do something to make you uncomfortable?” 

“Yes - no - ” Spock nearly makes a noise of frustration. “Rather, it his entire being that makes me feel - strange. Even thinking of our most mundane interactions makes me feel strange.”

The captain looks down for a long while.

He looks up again, less intense but still neutral and open. “Spock, do you find Doctor McCoy fascinating?”

Words are inadequate. McCoy is not merely _fascinating_. He is crass, ill-tempered, prone to pettiness and incredible stubbornness.

He is also perceptive like no other, caring to a fault, skilled and a remarkable individual.

Spock realizes, yes, he does find the doctor wholly fascinating. 

Jim shifts to sit on the wall next to him. “Some people call that attraction, Spock.”

The visual of the captain and Ambassador Spock’s tender interactions flashes before Spock’s eyes. “I was under the impression that harboring romantic inclinations for another is supposed to be a favorable experience, not a painful one.”

The captain smiles a weary smile. “It hurts, Spock. I think about how much he cares about me and it fucking scares me to death.”

Spock blinks. “Your inclinations towards each other suggested you felt a mutual pleasantry in your connection.”

“We have that too, but it’s not all pleasantness. I mean, we just had a fight.”

Spock replays the tired ambassador’s words, the captain’s nagging to go out, the terseness in the restaurant. “The events of tonight are more intelligible knowing this information.”

The captain laughs. “Hey, maybe I just really wanted to hang out with you, Mr. Spock. You really didn’t know?”

Spock lets the corners of his lips tug up. “Then you have resolved your conflict with the ambassador?”

“Yeah, it’s all good. He’s still there with Bones. I’ll meet him at home.”

Spock hesitates. “Do you know if Doctor McCoy is also attracted to me?”

The captain blows out a breath. “Gosh, I know he likes you, Spock. But I don’t know in what manner he likes you. He hasn’t been with anyone for a while, so who knows.”

“Is there an optimal manner of approaching him in this subject manner?”

The captain slaps Spock’s arm. “Knowing Bones? He’ll be pleased as punch with whatever you do. So long as you’re straightforward, which I know you are.”

“I would like to declare my intention to court you, Doctor.”

McCoy stares.

Spock tilts his head. “Your coffee mug is about to spill on your desk, Doctor. That is inadvisable, considering the substantial amount of paperwork it is covered in.”

McCoy curses and quickly adjusts his grip on his cup. He looks Spock up and down again, with no less bewilderment.

“Doctor, you appear to be in a state of disbelief.”

McCoy gingerly sets down the coffee before turning on him. “Listen, you green-blooded hobgoblin, I have a lot of dreams about this particular doctor’s office, and right now I’m not sure I’ve ever left my bed.”

“I am genuine, Doctor McCoy.” Spock frowns. “As are my words.”

McCoy sighs and looks up at Spock warmly. “Thank you, Spock, but I’m good.”

“Good?” Spock falters.

McCoy gives him a gentle wave of dismissal. “I appreciate you sharing your feelings with me, but no. No thank you.” 

Spock stands stiffer. “You do not harbor romantic inclinations for me?”

McCoy doesn’t respond.

Spock moves closer. “It is your right to reject me, Doctor, but may I ask why?”

“You really asking me that, you stubborn Vulcan? It’s nothing.”

“I wish to understand.”

McCoy looks up, his eyes pleading. “Look. I'm not your most logical option, aren't I?”

“Logical, Doctor?”

“I failed my marriage and my daughter, not to mention I’ll say whatever idiotic, hurtful thing that comes to mind. I’m hardly an appealing option. Not to mention your counterpart was attracted to the Jim of his universe?” 

McCoy looks at Spock with that strange, sympathetic expression once more. “You were supposed to be with Jim, and he chose another version of you instead.”

“Is that how you view the situation, Doctor McCoy? It is hardly accurate. I have never harbored intimate inclinations for the captain.”

The doctor blinks once. “What?”

“Furthermore, I have not approached you because I considered you the second-best option.” Spock speaks faster, feeling as if he is in a rapidly dropping turbolift despite standing completely still. The sensation manages to somehow feel terrifying but right at the same time. “What would it take to convince you, Doctor?”

McCoy shrugs and returns his attention to the paperwork on his desk. “Who knows. Maybe a big ol’ binder of cheery snippets like the nice, shiny one you got from your counterpart.”

Spock hesitates. “You are still not being serious with me.”

“You know me, Spock,” McCoy says shortly. “I’m not nice. I never was.”

Spock is silent for a long time.

“Very well, Doctor.” Spock leaves the office. As the doors close, he turns to look behind him and confirm the hint of disappointment on the doctor’s face.

For the next three weeks, Spock works, analyzes, meditates, and deliberately avoids the doctor. He successfully avoids injury every time he joins the landing party and watches as a cursing Jim is pulled to Medical Bay, ripped shirt and all.

One night as he is light in meditation, Spock senses a presence outside the door to his private quarters. The individual hesitates and paces before finally turning around and leaving.

The next morning, Jim awkwardly knocks on the doorway to their adjacent bathroom. “Hey, Spock? I heard you were epically dumped, but could you maybe not let the personal stuff get in the way of our working relationships?”

Spock raises an eyebrow. “I have been working perfectly fine.”

“Spock, please. You know who I’m talking about.”

“Very well. I will arrange to spend time with Doctor McCoy tonight.”

McCoy is visibly nervous as he sits with a bottle of brandy and two empty glasses, the usual arrangement. He stands when he sees Spock approaching.

Any words he may have planned in advance disappear when he sees the giant binder in Spock’s hands.

Spock holds it out towards him. “I am aware you were not completely serious at the time you requested this. I am also aware that this is not definitive of the initiation of intimate relations. However, I would appreciate it not being widely circulated about the ship. There is enough gossip as it is.”

McCoy opens the binder and stares in disbelief at the words that fill the pages. 

“I deemed the handwriting to be illogical and unnecessary, however my counterpart explained that humans considers the lack of formality to convey a more personal message. It is the only factor in which he provided assistance.” Spock looks McCoy in the eye. “The words are all my own.”

McCoy rubs at the corner of a page. “Spock. I have no words.”

Spock silently watches McCoy read. He barks out a laugh.

“You read my graduate research? God, that thesis is embarrassing to even think about.” 

Spock is about to reply, but he sees the wide-eyed intrigue in the doctor’s eyes as he is lost in Spock’s words. Spock stays quiet.

McCoy turns the page, and Spock knows he is reading about Spock’s initial impressions of the doctor at Starfleet Academy, long before McCoy even knew who Spock was. 

“Seriously? You first saw me in the mess hall when I was chewing out some senior officers for taking advantage of a cadet? Some first impression.”

“Yes. And that impression holds true to this day. Your profanity remains prevalent and excessive and unmatched in creativity. Page one hundred.”

McCoy laughs and flips through the pages. “Oh yeah?” His laughter falters.

There is a high probability he is looking at the entry right below.

_You fear intimacy and hide behind your harsh words, yet when the situation requires you to be vulnerable for another’s sake, you do not hesitate._

McCoy closes the binder. “Spock.”

“Did you truly mean what you said, Doctor? When you rejected me?” Spock tilts his head forward.

McCoy tugs Spock closer and mutters, “They say actions speak louder than words, right?”

The kiss is like the shorting of an electric circuit, a dangerous spark that is searing to the touch. It is a wholly addictive sensation that Spock wants to taste again.

“I must admit, I find it difficult to comprehend your attraction for the doctor,” the ambassador says.

Spock glares at the monitor. “The same could be said for your partner. I not only find it difficult to comprehend, but also completely incomprehensible.”

“Is it not obvious?” The ambassador’s expression becomes disgustingly blissful. Spock sincerely hopes his face does not match the ambassador's when Spock thinks of the doctor.

“I know you find my display of emotions repulsive, younger one, but believe me when I say you are not so far off yourself.”

Spock ends the call immediately. It is preferable to having the last word, as much as he would like to have it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! (or reaching the bottom of the page ^^) I appreciate all kudos and any form of comments! especially the ones w emoji spam 💖💖✨✨
> 
> If you enjoyed this fic, [you might like this spones pool fic (Rating also T)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22989589)


End file.
